Cherry, from Loose Cannon, is a verbatim piece focusing on virginity and sex. Why do we have a name for it? Why is it so important? Is it a social construct? Does it have to be special? Do vaginas always bleed the first time? It feels so important when you’re going through puberty, and even after it. Loose Cannon read stories from forums, audience members, and anonymous submissions. We get a picture of something that’s actually a very vulnerable and personal moment, and one that differs for everyone.
There’s a bed in the middle of the stage and behind it is a skrim, held up by a metal bar. There’s a projector in front of it, one of those old ones we used in school, and the lighting creates shadow and movement on the screen. It feels quite makeshift but in a lovely way. It’s like we are in a bedroom, and we’re telling secrets under a blanket fort. The audience are safe and included, and the actors too, although far more vulnerable than us.
I had two favourite moments. The first was when two of the performers (Layla Madanat and Mikey Tsoukkas) played their violins, manipulating and scoring the scene in front of them. The second was when Lizzie Annis sat in the middle of the bed, fairy lights extending out of her at five angles. The brutality of the story juxtaposed the lights and the gentle tone of her voice.
The sensitivity and simultaneous hilarity of the writing and performances are a massive credit to Wain and Brett, the directors. I loved this show, and would highly recommend it to anyone at the fringe, because we’re all virgins once right?
See Cherry @ theSpace 45 11th-26th August